Winning It All (Hometown Players Book 4) (5 page)

“What makes you say that?”

“The fact that I could bounce a quarter off your ass,” I blurt out. “Or your pecs. Or your biceps.”

“Ah, so you have been thinking about me.” He winks. I fight another hot flush.

“Why are you working out here suddenly?”

“I’m not working out.” He shrugs. “I’m doing yoga.”

I give him a glare. He chuckles. “At least now I know how you were so flexible that night.”

I blush instantly. It surprises him. “You’re shy? Now?”

Yes, now. Because you’ve seen me half-naked and twisted up like a pretzel. And you’re referring to it!

“I’m hardly shy.” I look up, trying to give him a hard stare. He is sucking gently on his straw, his eyes twinkling. When he pulls away, a tiny dollop of the smoothie drips onto his bottom lip, and that tongue of his—the one I am intimately acquainted with—slips out to lick it up.

“You’re purple,” he whispers and grins triumphantly.

“I’m still hot from my workout,” I lie and turn my back to him as I organize the trays of fresh fruit behind me.

“I have to get going. Gotta get to work,” he says, and I nod without turning around. I wait but I don’t hear him leave. Finally, I can’t help but turn around. He’s still sitting there, eyes glued to me. He shakes his empty smoothie cup and I reach out with just my arm to take it, keeping my body as far away as possible. Our fingers brush and he takes his other hand and wraps it around mine on the plastic cup. He tugs until I take a few steps forward. Now the only thing separating us is the granite bar top. He smiles. It makes me smile, but my knees are shaking.

“I thought about you, Shay,” he says softly and then he lets go, jumps off the bar stool and walks toward the exit. I stand there watching his cute little butt leave, my hand suspended in midair holding his empty cup. I fight the insane urge to wrap my lips around the straw he’d been sucking on.

Six hours later I’m leaning against the light post directly outside the front doors to the gym, waiting. The weather’s unseasonably warm. Winter broke early in Seattle this year and it’s already flip-flops and T-shirt weather in April. I’ve never been a fan of the rain here, but Seattle has brought me a lot of joy.

My mom met her new husband here, I have deep bonds with my teammates, the fans are great, Stephanie got clean here, I won a Cup here. I’ve actually started to think of Seattle more as my home than my hometown in New Brunswick or where I grew up in Quebec.

I play aimlessly with my phone as I wait and try not to stress. I don’t usually do this, chase a girl. But she looked incredible this morning in yoga. And Audrey was so excited last night when she suggested I surprise Shay at work this morning. I was full of confidence, and a little whiskey, when I agreed. When I walked into the bar with Chooch I had no idea Audrey worked there. To be honest, I forgot I’d even met her at the gym opening.

We’d just gotten home from our road trip and I was wiped, but Chooch was dealing with some relationships issues. He and his fiancée were not doing well and he didn’t want to go home right away. He asked me to meet him near his house for a drink. Audrey recognized me and reintroduced herself. She was friendly and welcoming, even bought Chooch and me a round of drinks. I’d managed to bring the small talk around to Shayne without being pathetically obvious. Long after Chooch left, I was still there chatting to Audrey. And then her boyfriend, Josh, showed up and he recognized me. I had just hired Sutter Brothers Financial Group about four months ago and Josh works with Paul, my financial advisor. He’d seen me in the office and he knew I was a Winterhawk. He and Audrey both invited me to the barbeque.

How could I say no? Shay was all I had thought about on our road trip. I’d had more than my fair share of hookups in places a lot weirder than a gym laundry room. But there was something about doing that with Shay that made it somehow dirtier, sexier, hotter than I’d ever experienced. I think it was the conflict I could see on her face. She wanted me as much as I wanted her, but there was a glimmer of nervousness in her eyes that intrigued me. She was all smart mouth and tough words, but something soft and innocent was underneath. I really wanted to discover it.

Then this morning Shay mentioned her car was dead and I decided to be bold and just show up here and drive her to the party. I hadn’t thought twice about it until I got here. Now I have nothing to do but wait and overthink this bold move. Will she be grateful for the lift? Will she think it’s sweet? Stalkerish? Nah…she’ll like the confidence, even if she won’t admit it.

Still, when she saunters out of the building at 5:15 p.m., I’m actually nervous. She’s changed out of the yoga pants and staff shirt and into a soft, black, strapless dress that reaches the sidewalk. She’s got on a turquoise necklace and matching earrings and her long, wavy brown hair is loose. She makes my dick hard.

Shayne is digging in her bag, not watching where she’s going, so I step right out in front of her, and she slams into me. I grab her by the waist to keep her from falling over as she bounces off my chest. The impact causes her sunglasses to tumble back off the top of her head, and I reach out with one hand and catch them behind her back before they shatter on the pavement.

“Good reflexes,” she says in a stunned voice. I take the sunglasses and slide them gently on top of her head again. My other arm is still around her back, holding her to me. She doesn’t attempt to step away.

“You should watch where you’re going,” I say is a hushed whisper as I stare down at her intently. My head is dipped, and hers is tilted up, so our foreheads are almost touching.

She blinks, regaining her composure. “You should watch where
you’re
going.”

“I knew exactly where I was going,” I say and wink at her.

She frowns, slips her sunglasses over her eyes and speaks with an aloof tone. “I’ve got to go.”

“Date?” I can’t help but ask, even though I know the answer and that’s not it.

“Plans,” she replies evasively, and shrugs her tiny, tanned shoulders. I wish those sunglasses weren’t covering her pretty gray eyes. They’re the most expressive part of her, and right now I’d love to know what she’s thinking.

“So how are you getting to those plans?” I ask as I lean back against the light pole again. “Someone picking you up?”

She laughs breathlessly and shakes her head. “Seattle has a very good public transit system, Frenchie.”

She starts to walk down the sidewalk past me but I reach out and grab her wrist, spinning her back to face me. “You know what’s better than city transit? My Aston Martin.”

“If you’re into pretentious vehicles that scream ‘I have a small penis,’ then yes, I guess it is better,” she retorts, but she’s letting me pull her toward the small parking lot where my car is.

I click the remote to unlock the doors, and then I pull open the passenger door and wink at her. “You didn’t seem to have a problem with my size.”

Her lips twitch at that, and she says simply, “The details are blurry. I don’t remember much about it at all, really.”

Ouch.

I motion toward the open car door, but she stands perfectly still and just stares at me. Is she really going to get on a bus instead of spending time with me? Really?! “I’ll take you to your barbeque.”

Her eyes grow wide. “How do you know where I’m going?”

“I called the psychic hotline,” I quip back. When the only motion she makes is to cross her arms I add, “Get in the car and I’ll explain on the way there. Promise.”

She sighs heavily and takes a step toward the open passenger door. As she slips by me I whisper in her ear, “I remember every single second of that night.”

“It was a long time ago,” she mutters quietly but with a tone in her voice that says that bothers her. Good. That means she missed me, even though she won’t admit it.

“I know. I’ll explain that too. Eventually.” I slip into the driver’s seat and start the car and glance over at her. I swiftly veer out into traffic and hit the gas pedal. She glares at me through her sunglasses. “How do you know about the barbeque?”

“We have mutual friends,” I reply.

“Who?”

“Relax, Shay, honey.”

“My name is Shayne,” she huffs.

“Whatever, Shay.”

His middle name has got to be Arrogant Bastard because that’s what he is. He’s driving with this sexy little smirk on his lips and his eyes are sparkling and he’s winked at me more than once and my God, when did arrogance start making me hot? I could bail on him—jump out of the car at the next stoplight…but I won’t. I sat my ass in this delicious little sports car all by myself because I want to be here. But why does
he
want me here?

By getting in the car did I just give him the impression it’s totally cool that we had sex, that I still don’t know his last name, and that he just disappeared for twelve days afterward? Is he interested in me? If he is, then why did he disappear? Is this his attempt at another random hookup? If it is, will I give it to him? Is that what I do now?

No. It’s not. I just hate public transit and I’m lazy after a long day of work and maybe, just maybe, if I spend more time around him, maybe this will be something…more. Is that possible? Am I being naïve? Would veteran one-night-standers scoff at my stupidity? “Seriously. Who told you about the barbeque?”

He drives like an Indy 500 champion—fast but in control. His eyes don’t leave the road. And the smirk on his pretty little lips doesn’t leave either. I sit staring at the cocky excuse for a smile, trying to decide if it angers me or creates that damn tingle.

“And how did you know I was going? I need to know which friend shares my personal business with strangers,” I tell him in a clipped tone as I cross my arms like an angry teenager.

“The hosts of the party invited me. You know, your college roommate and her boyfriend,” Sebastian replies flippantly. “They’re great, by the way. It’ll be your loss if you disown them.”

“What?!” I’m beyond shocked. “Audrey invited you?”

He smirks at my reaction, glancing quickly over at me before taking a turn fairly fast. “Josh did. He was at the bar last night too, and I know him. From Sutter Brothers. I just didn’t know he was dating Audrey. Small world,
n’est pas
?”

“I don’t speak French,” I mutter back. He knows Josh from Sutter Brothers? Josh works at one of the biggest wealth management companies in the Pacific Northwest. Does that mean Sebastian is also a financial advisor? Or is he one of their millionaire clients? I stare at the luxurious car I’m sitting in. Holy shit, I think he’s a client.

“Does he manage your portfolio?” I ask, trying to sound casual. I don’t care about money. I honestly don’t. None of my boyfriends have had a ton of money…Mind you the last time I had a serious boyfriend was college. And I repeatedly turn down my parents’ money. I could be living in a much nicer apartment, with a car that works, if I wanted to take their handouts. Seriously, money doesn’t matter, but…did I just bang a millionaire?

Frenchie shakes his head. “No. His coworker Paul does. Do you know Paul? Oberman?”

I shake my head and swallow, but my throat is unexpectedly dry, and I cough. He slows the car to an acceptable residential speed as we pull off a main street and start through the more residential area that leads to the park.

“You’re a millionaire?” I manage to choke out and instantly regret it. I probably sound like a gold digger or something.

He reaches over and pats my hand on my thigh. His smirk slips a little, but then he shrugs his broad shoulders. “Yeah.”

“I thought you were an accountant or a lawyer or waiter or something.” Seriously, why won’t my mouth stop spitting out words? At least I managed to stop coughing.

“You sound disappointed.” He is still smirking. I amuse him. Nifty.

“I don’t care what you do for a living,” I say airily, finally gaining control of my words and actions again. “It was a one-night stand.”

“We’ll see about that,” he replies in a deep whisper filled with promise.

I bite my lip and turn and stare out the window. He slows as two kids run through a crosswalk holding dripping ice cream cones, and I smile. When I glance at him, he’s smiling too, and it’s not cocky, it’s just pretty.

Just past a newly renovated apartment building he takes a left down a road that looks like a dead end. There are only a few homes on it, and then the road narrows to essentially a one-way—even though it’s not—and the houses disappear. It’s nothing but overgrown grass and weeds. The property technically belongs to the city, but no one maintains it like they do the other park areas. It’s a popular place for locals because it’s less touristy than the other areas around the lake.

Sebastian pulls over behind Josh’s red SUV at the top of the hill. Other cars line the rest of the narrow roadway. He turns the car off and hurries around to help me out. I ignore his outstretched hand, haul myself out of the smooth, deep leather seat, and storm ahead to the picnic tables by the water.

I glance down the small rolling hill to the party. There are about a dozen people already here. They’ve set up chairs and towels on the long, slim strip where the grass gives way to sand by the edge of the lake. Josh and some other guy in a trucker hat whom I recognize as one of Josh’s friends are placing rocks in a circle to enclose what will become a fire pit. I march toward Audrey, who’s setting up camping chairs around the fire pit the boys are building. She’s grinning at me like a fool.

“So, how was your day?” She winks at me.

“Fuck you, you traitorous whore,” I say flatly and flop down in a chair.

“I see you found a ride.” She wipes the condensation off the can of beer in her hand and flicks the water from her fingers at my face. It splatters all over my sunglasses.

As I remove them to clean them, I glance over my shoulder. Josh has jogged up to help Sebastian with the two coolers he’s pulled from his trunk. I didn’t realize he brought stuff. So now I’m the jerk who grabs a ride and abandons him. Perfect. I stand to go back up there, but with Josh’s help he doesn’t need me, so I allow myself to unabashedly admire the sight of Frenchie. He looks sexy as hell in his casual clothes. Just as sexy as he does in a suit. And in sweaty workout wear. His hair is an intricate, tousled mess, curling slightly at the ends. My fingertips tingle with the need to touch it. His hair was so soft and deceivingly thick when I held on to it that night while I came…

I give my head a shake to fight the heat rising in my body. “You should have warned me.” I pull my gaze back to my best friend and give her a pointed stare.

“You said you didn’t care if you ever saw him again,” Audrey reminds me, shaking the water out of her dirty blond hair. “You said it was no big deal and you were over it.”

I swallow. I did say that. A few nights ago when she came over for wine and
Scandal
. And clearly I was rather convincing. Or maybe not, judging by the devious glimmer in Audrey’s brown eyes. I frown at her. “A heads-up would have been cool,” I repeat firmly.

“So have you fucked him again yet?” she asks in a voice that is way too loud for my liking.

I shush her and frown. “Of course not! We just drove here.”

“I’d fuck in that car,” she replies with a shrug of her tiny shoulders, and I flip her the bird.

Suddenly there’s a beer dangling in front of my face. I tip my head back and see Sebastian smiling down at me from behind my chair. “Something to cool off that hot little temper of yours,
ma belle
,” Seb says softly as he gives the can a little tilt from side to side.

Butterflies take off from my belly and bounce off my rib cage. My hormones are clearly ignoring the memo my brain sent regarding this matter. I stand, turn to face him, and take the beer from him. He’s cracked it already. I tilt my head skeptically and switch the cans, giving him the one he offered me and taking the one he just sipped from.

“You could have roofied this one,” I explain. “You can never be too safe.”

With that I leave him standing there, his mouth hanging open. Audrey laughs and I hear Josh say, “Yeah, ’cause Sebastian has so much trouble finding a chick that he has to drug them.”

I ignore them all and stomp over to where a few friends are playing volleyball.